Tiny Dancer

Prologue

"Sorry you drove all of the way down here, Agents, but we've cleared this case as an animal attack." The officer of Snowdale let them into the house decorated with yellow caution tape and snow.

"We're here on a missing child report. Are you saying you haven't seen Lizzy Tamburo anywhere?" Dean asked, his signature scowl seeming serious and right at home with the frosty wind.

"Well, we've seen her, alright. All over those walls." Questioning looks were given to the sheriff. "You'll see. Now, we're having a Christmas party back at the station that I do not want to miss. When you're done here, you can come back."

The shorter Winchester entered and the taller one pursued. Upon entering, a horrific sight greeted them. One so horrible, the men stood and stared at the disgusting art upon the walls. Blood and bones were set out sparatically, making it look close to Halloween earth the Christmas. There a strangled sob erupted from upstairs. Both men's eyes whipped to the stairs, and their bodies followed. Almost like a race, the men sprinted up the stairs, and into a room obviously a little girls.

"It must've just been the house settling." Sam says.

"No. It was definitely a sob. Like a kid crying. We just need to find the girl so she can tell us what's going on!" Dean kicked part on the wall, and a small muffled squeal cam from it. Once more, Dean kicked the wall.

"Please don't hurt me! I won't tell anyone it was you!" A bargain came from the talking wall. Quickly, Sam and Dean broke down the wall, to find a set of stairs. Racing again, they traveled up the stairs, and came to a stop when they found a young girl. The girl had green eyes, orange hair brought up into a pony tail, leaving out the small swoop bangs, and was clad in a red dress ending just above her knee, a blue stocking hat, and white tights. It was obvious to anyone the girl, who was holding onto a pole for dear life, was freezing. She looked like she'd been up there for a week or so; her hair was wild, bags under her young eyes.

"Please don't hurt me..." She whispered this time.

"Kid, we're not going to hurt you. Are you Lizzy?" Sam asked her, looking down upon her. The girl, who couldn't of been more than four, replied sassily, "You're probably little fellow werewolf minion cubs or whatever of his, I'm not telling you anything!"

Dean chuckled before bending down to his level. "If we were his minions, wouldn't we have already hurt you?" The red head thought about it, nodded, then whispered in his ear.

"I am actually Lizzy. Don't tell the Moose, I don't trust him." An involuntary shiver ran down Lizzy's spine. As instinct, Dean pulled off his jacket, and wrapped the tiny girl in it. Apparently, that wasn't enough. Lizzy fell into Dean, and fell asleep. Almost like she hadn't slept in days. Dean picked her up like a baby; one hand close to her bottom, the other around her Bach as her head settled on his shoulder.

Sam, getting impatient, asked Dean, "That is Lizzy, right?"

With a small glance at the girl he was holding, Dean replied, "Uhhhhm, she told me not to tell."
And left to the Impala without a second word.